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Elphinstone Kist   Doric Verse

Psaulm Three: Metrical Version (CM)     by: Gardner, Dr Bruce K.

A Psalm o David, fan he fled fae Absalom, his son:

Ah, Lord, fit fowth o mony faes
Stert up agin masel
Boastan that nane sall sauve ma saul
Nae help fae God, thay tell.


But ye, Lord are a targe ow’r me
Mo ghloir1 fa lifts ma heid;
I ca’d ye, Lord; ma voice ye heard,
Fae yer haly heicht, gave heed.


I laid me doon; slept lyke the deid
Syne wauken’t wi a stert;
The Lord had raisit up ma lyfe
And gien strength tae ma hert.


Tho mony thoosand fowk aa thrang
An roon me stert tae faa -
Nae even if thay grim an glower! -
Thay’ll nae fleg me at aa!


Loup, Lord, an lowse me fae ma faes!
Ye’ve duntit aa their jaaws,
The skellums’ sherp teeth brak, ma God:
Bliss - hale! - fa luives yer laaws!



1 Mo ghloir (Gaelic) = 'my glory'. This reflects the historic (fading) link between the North East area and Gaelic, cf. place-names.


© 2008 Translated from the Hebrew into Doric Lowland Scots and versified by Bruce Gardner.



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